


Home Is Where Two Hearts Meet

by 8bitcyborg



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Explicit Sexual Content, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route Spoilers, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Time Skip, Reunions, Scars, Tenderness, True Love, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-04 04:21:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20464931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8bitcyborg/pseuds/8bitcyborg
Summary: «There are feelings inside of me, that I have kept locked away forever. They are not appropriate to grace upon someone like you—because I am not worthy of looking at you this way. Yet—you keep wanting me to call you my friend. How could I, when I want to call you so much more?»





	Home Is Where Two Hearts Meet

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by their reunion in Chapter 16: The Rose-Colored River and their support conversations<3
> 
> 31.08.19: Happy Birthday to our best boy Dedue!<3
> 
> ______________________________________________________________________________________  
Character personalities are being portrayed based off the Japanese version of the game.  
______________________________________________________________________________________

“Dedue…”

Five years. For _five long years_ Dedue has dreamed of hearing Dimitri’s voice again, and to think that the very first words coming from his prince’s mouth—to grace his ears—is Dedue’s very own name spoken with such soft desperation.  
The years hasn’t been kind to Dimitri that much is obvious, but he is still the most handsome man on earth to Dedue. Long hair, eyepatch, perpetual tiredness and all. He is still a beautiful, strong, and dedicated warrior—and most importantly; he’s _alive_. Dedue smiles gently in response, catching the very subtle twitch to the corner of Dimitri’s good eye—he’s on the verge of crying.  
Dedue would have chosen a different setting for their reunion if he could. The stench of blood is overpowering with all the dead bodies scattered around them and there’s rubble and debris fallen from the once proud Great Bridge of Myrddin. It’s a miracle it still stands.

“You died. Five years ago…” Dimitri whispers as he closes the distance between them. “Am I hallucinating? Are you a mere mirage?” His hand comes up to caress Dedue’s cheek, and Dedue can see the exact moment that realization dawns on him. He pulls Dimitri in for a tight hug, shielding him from prying eyes, and letting the prince’s tears soak silently into his shoulder. He shares a meaningful glance with the Professor, who nods solemnly and orders the rest of the group to fall back to camp, letting Dedue and Dimitri have the privacy they need.

“I was saved by my brothers. Men of Duscur.” Dedue says softly as he strokes Dimitri’s back in comforting circles. “How could I die, when I haven’t yet witnessed your moment of triumph?”

The sound Dimitri makes—albeit muffled—is one of joy, tinted with a sadness so, so deep it makes Dedue’s heart ache. It aches for his homeland—Duscur, destroyed by Faerghus, it aches for Adrestia and the misguided attempt at unity from Edelgard, for Claude and Leicester, for all of Fódlan, but most of all it aches for _Dimitri_. His saviour, his prince—no, he will be _king_ soon, of that Dedue is sure. Dimitri has lost so much already in his young age, but he will take it all back and he will rule as he was supposed to do, and Dedue will stand by his side every step of the way.

“Come home with me?” Dimitri rasps, as if he would ever need to ask. Dedue holds him even tighter, hoping that his intent of _never letting go again_ shines through to Dimitri.

“Yes, Your Highness.” he replies, knowing full and well Dimitri means the newly reclaimed Garreg Mach Monastery.

But to Dedue, anywhere _Dimitri_ is—is _home_.

* * *

“Is the water warm enough, Your Highness?”

“Yes, thank you, Dedue.” Dimitri sighs as he sinks down into the spacious wooden tub. While water can be heated in an instant with some magic, Dimitri couldn’t care less for anyone’s company but Dedue’s tonight. As always Dedue has practically read his mind and gathered together firewood to heat the bath for him. It’s been quite some time since anyone has pampered him like this—five years to be exact.

“Do you need any assistance in washing your back and your hair, Your Highness?” Dedue asks. There’s a hint of bashfulness there Dimitri hasn’t noticed before but he files it away as a slight unfamiliarity due to having been away from each other for so long. He can manage just fine by himself, but he would really like for someone else—for _Dedue_ to do so.

“Yes, please. That would be very kind of you.”

“It is my duty as your vassal, Your Highness.” Dedue replies in his familiar, stoic tone, but the words stings Dimitri far more than they ever have before.

“Dedue.”

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“Join me.”

“I—”

“Join me in the bath. _Please_.”

Dedue _does_ want to join Dimitri in the bath, but it would not be appropriate to do so. He is a mere vassal, a servant, he could not, _should not_ bathe with a king. It doesn’t feel right, yet at the same time, in some far away corner of his mind, _it does_. There’s been a raging storm inside of him, pulling him in opposite directions for as long as he can remember having known Dimitri. He’s gotten very good at dampening the inappropriate feelings over the years, but their absence from each other—as cliche as it sounds—has only made his heart grow fonder. Fonder of Dimitri, in ways he can only dream of in the very privacy of his own bedroom in the darkest of nights. He swallows and tries not to twist the wash cloth in his hands, lest his strength tear it to shreds.

“Is that—is that an order, Your Highness?” he asks tentatively, the need for further permission, a safety blanket for him to hold onto too strong. If Dimitri orders him, he should obey. Then it would be okay to join him in the bath.

“Yes.” Dimitri answers point blank and scoots forwards so that Dedue can settle behind him. Dedue wastes no time shedding his clothes, but hesitates for a moment with his underwear. No, they’ve seen each other naked a thousand times before—yet this time it feels way too intimate somehow. He swallows his reluctance and takes it off, sliding smoothly down into the water behind Dimitri. He pauses as he studies the king’s back.

“Your Highness, you still have scars on your back…” he murmurs softly, not able to stop himself from gently running his hand over a particularly large one slicing down Dimitri’s left shoulder blade. There’s a vast abundance of new ones as well. “It does you no good to languish in pain. I will procure some medicine for you.” Dimitri’s hand curls around Dedue’s ankle before he can rise from the tub. The prince shakes his head.

“No, it’s fine. I bear these scars with pride, both old and new. They are a testament to my worth, saving you makes it worthwhile to not let them fade away. The pain is a reminder that I am still alive and that I will not rest until I have brought those who wronged you and your people to justice. _All_ of Fódlan shall know justice.”

“It is a debt that I am never going to be able to repay, Your Highness.” Dedue says softly as he fills the small bucket he brought with him to gently pour over Dimitri’s head. He lathers the prince’s hair with honey soap, meticulously massaging it in to get rid of all the ash and blood staining the golden locks.

“Dedue.” Dimitri says after a short pause.

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“Five years ago, I did nothing but await my execution within my jail cell. Was it not you that saved me?”

Dedue doesn’t answer immediately. He fills the bucket again, and pours slowly until all of the soap is rinsed out of Dimitri’s hair. He picks up the wash cloth and gently runs it over Dimitri’s scarred back.

“That was nothing more than my duty as your vassal.” he answers with as much conviction as he can muster around the lump in his throat. There’s an even longer pause before Dimitri speaks again.

“Then consider your debt repaid. A life for a life as it were.”

“Your Highness!”

“No, I will hear no more of it. Dedue, you are my most cherished friend. I—”

Dimitri stops halfway through his sentence and Dedue wonders if he just imagined the thickness to his voice and the slight shiver running down his back. Dimitri sucks in a breath and then slowly leans back until he is half-lying in Dedue’s lap. Time stops for what seems like an eternity but as soon as he has collected his wits Dedue embraces Dimitri on auto-pilot. Dimitri is looking up at him, one eye blue like the softest Duscurian Cornflower, conveying so much sorrow Dedue’s heart stings violently. Dedue’s been meaning to ask, he doesn’t want to pry—but…

“May I?” his voice asks anyways, and his hand comes up to cup Dimitri’s face, thumb settling on the rim of his eyepatch.

“Yes.” Dimitri replies tentatively after a short pause and Dedue proceeds to gently slide the eyepatch up over his brow. He's badly scarred, and his eye is milky white—_he’s blind_. Dimitri must have caught the slight shift in Dedue’s expression despite him doing his best to hide it.

“I didn’t manage to dodge the Thoron spell in time. Got away unharmed otherwise.” Dimitri says. “It hurts now and then, but I’m not too bothered by it.”

Dedue knows a lie when he hears one. Dimitri is predictably working twice as hard to compensate for his lack of vision on his right side all while trying to hide his pain so no one will ever know. Dedue touches his fingers gently to Dimitri’s scarred skin, not missing the slight hitch in the prince’s breathing pattern.

“Allow me to act as your right eye then. I finally found you after five long years, and I will never stray away from your side ever again.” he pleads.

Dimitri’s lips moves as if he wants to protest Dedue’s words at first, but he stops himself, his fist flexing on the rim of the bathtub. Dedue wonders if his words have angered him. His thoughts aren’t allowed to progress further before Dimitri cranes his neck upwards and _kisses him_.

The kiss is sudden and lacks finesse, but regardless it is Dimitri’s lips touching upon his and Dedue’s world stops. The noise of the rain pouring down outside the monastery is increased tenfold, the crackling of the firewood so loud, and his heart—pounding erratically against his ribcage, echoes in his ears. Dimitri smells of honey soap and he is all warm, lean muscle, nestled in Dedue’s lap, skin against skin.  
It doesn’t last for more than a few seconds, the spell broken all too soon as lightning strikes just outside and Dimitri jolts back, eyes wide as he meets Dedue’s gaze, a myriad of conflicting emotions so clear on his face.

“I’m sorry.” he whispers. “I should never have—”

His hand flies to his face to cover his eyes, and he rises from the tub, fumbling around for a towel. He’s shivering. Dedue wants to say something, _anything_. Tell Dimitri it’s alright, tell him he isn’t alone, tell him that he wants to stay by his side—_forever_.  
But Dimitri is too quick, always was. He gathers all his things and he doesn’t even look at Dedue as he stalks towards the door. He stops at the door frame and it is barely audible words that spill from his mouth.

“I have to go. I’m sorry, Dedue.”

And just like that Dimitri’s gone, leaving Dedue in stunned silence, still clutching his eyepatch in his hand.

* * *

There’s a knock on Dedue’s door and his first reaction is mild surprise at not immediately recognizing who it is. Might be foolish to think everyone’s door knocking patterns hasn’t changed in five years. It could be the Professor—who else at this hour? He hasn’t seen Dimitri anywhere since the _incident_ in the bath a few hours earlier. He puts down the book he is reading and shuffles to the door, opening it only to find the one person he wants to see the most but thought the least plausible to seek him out right now.

“Your Highness?” he inquires softly, stepping aside to allow Dimitri to enter before closing the door again. “It is rather late, can I assist you with anything?”

“Dedue. What did I do to deserve having someone like you by my side?” Dimitri says. He sounds so tired, heartbroken, disbelieving. “Here I go and act all inappropriate towards you—yet you continue to see me as someone special, someone worthy of your time and efforts. Why?”

“That is because you are worthy of my time and effort, Your Highness.” Dedue tries, but the tenseness to Dimitri’s shoulders refuses to let go.

“I need to apologize to you, Dedue. I apologize for having stepped over the line, for having given in to something I thought I had quelled. I also need to thank you, for being so kind and returning my eyepatch to me.”

Dedue hadn’t known where to search for Dimitri after his hasty exit, so he had simply gone to the prince’s room, stoked the fireplace for him, and put his eyepatch on his dresser.

“Think nothing of it, Your Highness. I am happy to serve you.”

Dimitri laughs, but it is devoid of any mirth. He turns around, sky blue eye boring into Dedue’s soul.

“If only—” Dimitri says quietly as he walks past Dedue, his hand settling on the doorknob. “—if only the world wasn’t such a fucked-up place, if only I wasn’t such a messed up excuse of a human being we could have—” He doesn’t finish his sentence, instead punctuating it with a pained sound. Dedue’s heart aches anew.

“I’d go to hell and back for you, Your Highness.” Dedue says with firm and calm conviction. He would. He would lay down his life in an instant if Dimitri asked him to.

“I don’t deserve you.” Dimitri replies brokenly as he looks back over his shoulder at Dedue, a single tear sliding down his cheek.

“You deserve the world.”

“A world I would have to take by force?”

“Then take that world by force.” Dedue says, a hand on Dimitri’s shoulder as he makes the man turn around and fully face him again. Several fresh tears springs from his eyes and he looks about ready to crumble. But Dedue cannot hold it in anymore. They’re not meant to dance around this any longer. He cups Dimitri’s face in his hands and puts their foreheads together.

“Take the world by force, burn it if you must. But know that _I_ give you my love_ freely._”

“Dedue…” Dimitri whispers, voice thick and hands shaking as he twines his fingers in Dedue’s shirt. “Dedue you— I— how—”

“For a very long time, _Dimitri_.”

Dedue silences the broken sob coming from Dimitri with a kiss.  
They’re not the same two people they were five years ago, where Dedue would barely dare dream of doing anything of the sorts with Dimitri. He’s seen himself as the prince’s vassal ever since the day they met, and he still does, but Dimitri has shown him tonight that he too has been dealing with difficult feelings. To think that they are both fools in this game. And if they are both fools—then they finally stand on equal ground.

“Please~” Dimitri begs against Dedue’s lips. “Say my name again~”

“_Dimitri_.” Dedue obliges. “Dimitri, Dimitri, _Dimitri_.”

Dimitri’s name is a like a prayer upon Dedue’s lips, a prayer that is answered in full by Dimitri kissing him back, the floodgates finally open.

“Promise me something, Dedue.” Dimitri says in between their kisses. “Promise me to never throw your life away again. I need you alive. I need you by my side, always.”

“I promise.” Dedue murmurs in response, letting himself be guided backwards into his room by Dimitri.  
The back of his calves hits his bed, and he lets himself fall over with Dimitri on top of him. He becomes very aware of what state they both are in as their crotches press against each other. Dimitri’s intent is quite clear, and Dedue finds himself wanting this too. He can hear Dimitri swallow, and the prince pulls back for a second.

“Are you okay with this?” he asks, almost remorseful for having initiated it. Dedue cups his face and pulls him down again.

“Yes.” he answers simply, honestly. “But I will need your guidance in learning what is good for you, Dimitri.”

Dimitri has a physical reaction every time Dedue says his name and Dedue secretly relishes in it. He wants to make his prince feel good in every possible way. Not as his vassal, but as his— He dares not speak the word, not yet.  
He pulls the prince’s shirt over his head and lets him remove his in turn. Dimitri’s nimble fingers are tracing all the lines on Dedue’s chest and stomach, and he leans down to kiss the biggest scar—the one right over his heart. Dedue doesn’t need to say that the scar there was one once meant for Dimitri as the prince probably already knows. Dimitri’s face grows soft with sadness for a second before he seeks out Dedue’s mouth to kiss him again. Dedue’s hands go to grasp Dimitri’s waist, his glorious waist where the core of his strength sits.  
Dimitri is growing bolder by the minute as he slowly grinds against Dedue, the delicious friction dragging a soft groan from his mouth. Dimitri is beautiful in the light of Dedue’s stubborn reading candle—the shadows flickering and dancing on his face only enhancing everything Dedue finds attractive about him.

“Whatever you want of me, Dimitri, I will gladly give.” Dedue says against Dimitri’s lips and the prince shivers in his arms.

“Gods, what you _do_ to me~” Dimitri breathes, grinding down on Dedue even harder, his kisses becoming more fervent. “Do you know of what you offer?” Dimitri says, but it is not a question of which a reply is needed.

Dimitri slides off him and Dedue watches as he sheds his trousers and underwear, and finally stands before him in all his naked glory. He’s seen him a thousand times before, but this time is different, this time Dedue can look at him, with unashamed desire filling his heart. Dedue mimics Dimitri and shimmies out of the rest of his clothes too as Dimitri grabs a vial of weapon oil off the shelf and joins Dedue back on the bed. Dedue watches him intently as Dimitri takes ahold of his hand and pours some oil over two of his fingers. He swallows hard as Dimitri settles over him again, guiding his now oil-slicked fingers to his rear.

“Please~” he begs, and the spike of desire that rises within Dedue is hot and white. He kisses at Dimitri’s neck as he slides his fingers teasingly over the prince’s hole. Dimitri gasps and squirms in his lap, a silent plea Dedue is more than happy to oblige with as he presses the first finger inside. Dimitri’s hands finds purchase on Dedue’s shoulders, and his lips seeks out Dedue’s in hungry kisses.

“Mm—more, please~” Dimitri begs, voice like sweet music in Dedue’s ears. He slides the second finger inside too, swallowing the moan that spills from Dimitri’s lips as he gently loosens him up. His prince is warm and tight around his fingers and it pulls forth lewd thoughts about how Dedue wants to be properly inside of Dimitri—how Dimitri would feel wrapped around him. Dimitri reaches for the vial of oil again and pours some into his hand. Dedue wonders briefly for what purpose but his thoughts melt away into a groan as Dimitri takes ahold of their cocks and slick them up, sliding them together in a delicious display of eroticism.

“You feel so good, Dimitri.” Dedue whispers against the skin of Dimitri’s throat. His prince’s breathing is heavy, tiny gasps coming from each thrust of Dedue’s fingers inside of him and from every slide of their cocks. “So good, so beautiful.” he continues as he kisses down his collarbones and chest, relishing in the way Dimitri’s thighs quake as he reverently kisses each and every one of his scars.

“Keep that up and I am not going to last for much longer.” Dimitri warns, a shy smile on his lips. Dedue leans in to kiss him softly, steadying him with a hand on his waist.

“I want to be inside you, Dimitri.” Dedue says, heart racing from making his wish known not as a request, but as a pure, selfish want. Dimitri’s eye goes wide for a second, taken off-guard by Dedue’s words too, but his expression melts into lust and he lets go of their cocks, again finding the vial of oil.

“Gods, yes~.” he says, voice thick with need as he pours oil into his palm and curls his hand around Dedue’s member. Dedue’s hands both move to Dimitri’s waist, and he kneads it lovingly as Dimitri works his cock nice and slick. There’s thick anticipation in the air as Dimitri finally shifts his hips and angles himself above Dedue. He leans forwards to press their lips together in a sultry kiss before he slowly sinks down to the hilt. Dimitri moans unashamedly as he’s stretched out and filled up, thighs quivering as he tries to breathe, all while keeping eye contact with Dedue. He’s the most beautiful thing Dedue has seen in all his life. There’s never going to be anything close to the perfection Dimitri exudes in this moment. He’s wonderfully tight and warm around him, it’s everything Dedue thought it would be—but also so much _more_.

“_Dimitri_.” Dedue says, not nearly getting enough of his lover’s name.

_Lovers…_

That’s what they are now aren’t they? The thought is frightening, but exciting. It’s a rush of several different emotions in conflict, and at the same time unity, but they’re all exclusively about _Dimitri_.

“Can I see you?” Dedue asks softly, thumbing at Dimitri’s eyepatch. He gets a nod in return, and wastes no time in sliding it over his head, letting it fall to the floor. He cups Dimitri’s face in his hands and kisses his scarred brow.

“You’re beautiful.” he whispers, moving to kiss his cheeks, the corners of his mouth, and then his throat. Dimitri shivers in his lap, his hips rocking back and forth in tiny motions. His hand comes up to Dedue’s hair, and he frees it from the hair tie, white snow cascading down one side of his head.

“So are you.” Dimitri says, bashful smile on his lips. Dedue makes a pleased sound and kisses Dimitri again, the embers in the pit of his stomach glowing hotter and hotter. Dimitri lifts his hips a little bit higher and sinks back down again, building a pleasant rhythm for them both. Dedue groans against his warm skin, hands tight on Dimitri’s hips and he lets himself soak up all the pleasure his prince is giving him.

“Nh, ah, Dedue~” Dimitri chants softly, his eyes closed and brows scrunched up in pleasure and concentration as he continues riding Dedue. A languid moan spills from his mouth as Dedue thrusts upwards to meet him and his forehead falls to Dedue’s shoulder, a full body-shiver wracking him.

“Touch yourself for me, Dimitri.” Dedue says as he kneads his waist affectionately and thrusts upwards again. He wants to hear more, more of Dimitri’s delicious sounds. Dimitri obliges immediately, whimpering as he starts touching himself, trying to keep a rhythm together with Dedue. The pleasure is coiling tight in his stomach now and he nuzzles into the junction between Dedue’s shoulder and neck, panting as his hand moves frantically on his cock.

“Please, aah, please, Dedue, I’m so close~” he pleads.

He’s close to seeing stars, it’s on the verge of too much—and he crests over the edge as Dedue hits a place deep inside of him that makes his world shatter, all in Dedue’s arms, forehead touching forehead.  
Seeing Dimitri coming undone like this, riding out his orgasm in a display of radiant beauty, Dedue cannot hold it back anymore either. He comes buried deep inside his lover, his king, Dimitri’s name said like prayer, a holy phrase only for him to know and speak. Dimitri kisses him, thighs still quivering and hands shaking. He kisses him as if he can never have enough—and neither probably cannot.  
It’s impossible to say how long they stay like that, skin against skin, just breathing and basking in the afterglow, slow and lazy kissing and soft, murmured words of adoration spoken to each other.

When they later disentangle from each other and Dimitri asks Dedue to join him in the bath again, Dedue gives him his yes without a shred of hesitation. This time Dimitri is the one washing Dedue’s hair, and later, Dedue joins Dimitri in his bed chambers, falling asleep in his lover’s warm embrace, finally _home_.

* * *

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